


All The Right Moves

by seimaisin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-24
Updated: 2006-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 21:53:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seimaisin/pseuds/seimaisin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's smoother than he thinks he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Right Moves

"Dance with me, Sam."

Sam didn't want to admit that he'd actually never danced before. (Unless you count attempting to imitate Michael Jackson in a hotel room when he was six, which he didn't, and damn if Dean's mocking laughter wouldn't haunt him for the rest of eternity.) He never made it to a high school dance – hunts took precedence, or his friends of the moment were just too cool for the Electric Slide – and, really, on the list of 'things to try in college', dancing ranked somewhere down around 'painting watercolor fruit baskets.'

But, suddenly, a woman stood above him – an unbelievably beautiful woman – tugging on his hand hopefully. Beyond her, two couples swayed drunkenly on the bar's miniscule dance floor to a Dido song, if Sam identified the voice correctly. He shot across the table out of the corner of his eye. Mike and Kevin were distracted, talking about the NCAA tournament prospects of the Stanford basketball team. They wouldn't notice if he got up, but they'd certainly notice him dancing, and he'd probably never hear the end of it. Of course, he could always point out that he was the one who spent several minutes with his arms around a gorgeous blonde.

A gorgeous blonde … whose name he couldn't remember. _Smooth, Sam_. He knew they'd been introduced – obviously, she knew his name – but he'd been distracted when he walked into the bar, thinking about the calculus exam he'd possibly bombed, trying not to think about the missed call on his cell phone, from a number he didn't recognize, though it had a Kansas area code. Whoever it was hadn't left a message. So, when Mike bombarded him with the names of all his friends at the bar, Sam hadn't paid much attention. Big mistake, apparently.

Sam looked up. The woman was beginning to look at little peeved, uh-oh. Quick decision time. Male cred? Or time with a hot blonde? Sam could almost feel the phantom slap upside his head, courtesy of an absent brother who may or may not have called him. He tried to keep the irony out of his smile as he stood up. "Okay," he said to her, "but I'm not very good."

"How good to you have to be to sway?" she said, arching an eyebrow.

On the dance floor, Sam's companion proved to be the kind of woman who liked physical contact. A lot. Sam couldn't figure out if this was heaven or hell – she was all soft curves, pressed against him like she belonged there, but there were just some natural reactions that weren't kosher in the middle of a busy bar with a woman whose name he still couldn't remember. He forced himself to take a steadying breath as she tilted her face up to his. Her smile was equal parts innocence and evil, infused with a joy made Sam's stomach somersault. Something about her face, the way it glowed … "So, Sam," she said, tightening her arms around his back, "Mike says you're pre-law?"

"Yeah, I am." Her name. Sam ran through every female name he could come up with, mentally, and still drew a blank. "What about you?"

"Biology. For now, anyway. I'm thinking about changing my major."

"To what?"

She shrugged. The small movement caused her chest to rise against his. Sam bit the inside of his lip. If she noticed anything, she ignored it. "I don't know," she admitted. "I may just play the undecided college student for a while. I don't feel very passionately about anything right now, at least academically."

She licked her lips, probably an involuntary thing, but the flick of her tongue played over Sam's heightened senses like she'd licked him instead. He was vaguely aware of Mike and Kevin looking at them and pointing, somewhere in his peripheral vision, but they barely registered on his radar. "It's okay to be undecided," he said. "The future's a long time, no need to make all the decisions now."

"Exactly." Her fingers played a staccatto rhythm on his back, and suddenly Sam was sure that she knew exactly what she was doing. "You know, Sam," she murmured, low enough that he had to dip his head to listen, "I saw you at Mike's birthday party. I wanted to talk to you, but you were with a girl. Do you have a girlfriend?"

A girl? Sam dug through his memory. "Oh. No. I don't … she was a friend." A one-night date, actually, someone from his US History class that he'd had no chemistry with. Not like this.

"Good."

Dido gave way to something loud and obnoxiously hip-hop, but Sam was reluctant to let his partner go. She didn't seem to be in any hurry, either; after a long moment, she slid around to his side, keeping one arm around his waist. She looked up at him expectantly, and Sam found his tongue. "There's an empty table over in the corner. Wanna go sit down?"

She rewarded him with a smile that lit up the room. "Yeah, I'd really like that."

Oh, god. She was beautiful, she was warm, and she wanted him. Life could not possibly get any better, Sam thought. Unless, of course, he could remember her name.

Last resort mental trick – one he tried not to use unless his life depended on it. What would Dean do? Dean, he figured, would probably pretend he knew exactly who she was, eventually calling her by a name that was completely wrong. It was an approach that worked about half the time - sometimes, the girl would correct him with a giggle, charmed by Dean's outrageous smile. Sometimes, she'd throw her drink on him. It was a gamble, but his brother loved gambles.

Sam, not so much.

He cleared his throat as he held a chair out for her. "So," he began. "I really have to apologize." Her eyes widened, and he swallowed hard as he sat down across from her. On impulse, he grabbed her hand. "I was having a really bad night when I walked in here, and, well … the thing is … I know Mike introduced …"

"Jessica." Her laugh sounded like bells. She clutched his hand. "I'm Jess."

Jessica. Sam let out the breath he'd been holding, and heard a chuckle escape along with it. "It's really, really nice to meet you, Jess."

She beamed. From across the room, Sam heard Kevin's voice – drunkenly, as Kevin was still celebrating his 21st birthday three weeks later – "Hey, Winchester, nice dance moves!"

Sam thought about yelling back, but then Jess squeezed his fingers and murmured, "I certainly think so," and suddenly manly cred didn't matter quite so much.


End file.
